


Tell Me What You're Thinking (Don't Be Shy)

by pirateygoodness



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/F, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-17
Updated: 2011-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-26 20:42:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there are feelings, and then a phone call. <strong>Spoilers for 2.07: </strong>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me What You're Thinking (Don't Be Shy)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [](http://simplesetgo.livejournal.com/profile)[**simplesetgo**](http://simplesetgo.livejournal.com/) for the help with beta-reading.

They open the box.

Four and a half minutes later, Lauren's bodyguard puts a heavy hand on her shoulder, and tells her it's about time they got going.

Now Lauren's home, earlier than she'd like, restless and exhausted all at once. She needs to relax. She wants to go back to the lab, where she has her own work terminal and online access to every scientific and Fae database ever created, and find out everything she can about the nail in that box. She wants to sneak out and visit Bo, because there's something about her house, bare scaffolding and all, that makes Lauren feel like she's actually home. She wants to cure Nadia; she wants to be with Bo. Her life feels like a soap opera, endlessly complicated and difficult to keep up with.

So she keeps her hands busy, because sometimes that's easier than thinking. She makes brownies that she doesn't really want to eat, cleans the kitchen, sorts through the stack of medical journals on her coffee table - not accomplishing anything but killing time until she can go to sleep. She hates this feeling.

She's so caught up in her thoughts, in coming up with something else that she can do, that the sound of her cell phone makes her start. Glancing at the screen, she sees Bo's name. She's still not sure if she's allowed to take personal calls under the Ash's new rules, but she rushes to answer all the same.

"Hey," Bo says. She sounds about as worn out as Lauren feels.

"Hey," Lauren says. Suddenly, in the emptiness of her apartment, her voice sounds too loud. There's a guard posted at her front door, and another at the back. "Is everything okay?"

As she speaks, she starts walking upstairs, away from the doors. The best place to go is her bedroom - it's farthest from the entrances, hopefully out of earshot from both of the Ash's guards. She tucks one leg beneath herself as she sits on the bed.

"Yeah, I just - " Bo sighs.

Lauren can picture the expression, that half-smile that always makes Lauren's heart do a biologically improbable flip. "I was thinking of you," Bo says, "And I thought I would call. I never asked about how you were doing, after our talk."

She says _our talk_ , but Lauren knows what she really means; _the sex, and everything that came before and after that_. She swallows.

It really is a relief that Bo knows - about the Ash, and Nadia, the biggest of Lauren's deep, dark secrets - but the way Bo acts around her, now, makes Lauren feel awful. She thinks back to last week - it feels like months ago - and the way Bo used to tease her, the way they'd both felt comfortable enough for casual touches, easy smiles. Not having that anymore makes something inside Lauren ache. _I'm fine_ , she wants to blurt out, eagerly and too honestly. _I'm fine but you're the best kisser I've ever known and I care about you, a lot. I wish things could be easy for us._

What she says is, "I'm okay. Still not a huge fan of the Ash's new security policy."

"Yeah, me neither," Bo replies. Her voice is soft, disappointed.

That ache grows stronger. She's sure that if they could just be in the same room, without bodyguards and the need for friends running interference, they'd be able to figure out how to make this better. "It's alright," she says, trying to sound calmer than she feels. "The 24-7 bodyguards are really quite cuddly, once you get to know them."

Bo laughs. It's the most reassuring thing Lauren's heard all day. She remembers what things were like when she was staying at Bo's, the way she got to watch Bo laugh every day, memorizing the curve of her mouth and the way that the lines around her eyes grew deeper with her smile. "I'll bet," Bo says. A pause, then. "I've missed you."

Lauren catches herself looking down at her lap, sighing. It takes her a minute to remember that Bo can't see her, and that she needs to speak. "I've missed you, too."

"Oh yeah? Five star accommodations and all?"

Bo's voice sounds brighter, almost relieved. It gives Lauren the confidence to joke, "Hey, Jungle Jeeves just isn't the same without that couch of yours."

Bo laughs again. From her end of the phone, Lauren can hear something that sounds like a zipper. She tries very hard not to think about what Bo might be doing, or the last time she unzipped something of Bo's. "I did try to make you take the bed. Besides, it's not like you had to sleep there for very long, anyway."

She knows what Bo means - they ended up alternating, Bo taking the couch every second night - but she can't help thinking about the last night she spent there, in Bo's bed with her. She remembers strong hands against the back of her thighs, and the play of Bo's biceps-deltoid-pectoral muscles beneath her skin as she _pulled_ -

"Sorry," Bo says, and Lauren realizes, too late, that she's become distracted. "I didn't mean to -"

"No, no," Lauren says. "It's fine. I know what you meant." She pauses, almost sure that she hears the rustle of fabric from Bo's end of the line. Her mind's already in that place, and she doesn't need to be thinking about Bo's clothing, about how good it felt to slide her jeans off and the sight of her, flushed and half-dressed. "So how are things for you?"

She speaks too quickly, tripping over her words so that it sounds like she doesn't quite mean them. It's awkward.

From the long pause on the other end of the line, she's sure that Bo's picked up on it. If only the succubus power of seeing desire worked over the phone. "Things are good. I mean, Kenzi's not nearly as good a cook as you are, but we're making it work."

Bo's flirting openly, now, low-voiced. Again, Lauren hears rustling, and the things it brings to mind make her blush.

"Do I need to give you guys one of those lectures on healthy eating?" she says, her tone matching Bo's.

"I don't care what your textbooks say, wine totally counts as a fruit," Bo says.

Lauren smiles - it's an old joke of theirs, from a conversation they've already had. The fact that Bo remembers, even with what's going on between them, makes her feel a little better.

The leg she's been sitting on is starting to fall asleep, and she shifts her weight to change position. She wouldn't think anything of it, except that as she moves, hanging one leg off the edge of the bed and crossing the other over it, her thighs press together, and with that comes a sudden jolt. Immediately, she realizes that her thoughts have been affecting her body, more than she'd noticed. She's suddenly aware that her cunt is throbbing, that she's slick with her own arousal. Instinctively, she presses her thighs closer together, easing that ache. As she does she hears herself gasp, right into the phone, before she can think to stop herself.

Bo's end of the line is suddenly quiet. Lauren is paralyzed, embarrassed and nervous and - god, horny. The silence stretches on as Lauren tries, frantically, of something to say. "Sorry," she finally manages. "I, uh. Stubbed my toe."

She hears Bo breathe in, slowly. "Oh," she says, but there's a shakiness in her voice that wasn't there a moment ago. "Of course, right."

"So, the Hand of Glory," Lauren says. It's a non-sequitur, awkward at best, but Lauren's suddenly eager to change the subject.

Bo leaps on the opportunity, her voice growing animated. She talks about her day, explaining the missing persons case and the escaped killer in a way that Lauren wants to get lost in. She's always loved listening to Bo like this, hearing about the cases she solves while she's out doing something-that's-not-science. It's always felt a bit like she's having her own adventures, vicariously through Bo.

Normally, she'd be able to listen fully, and immerse herself in the story. But Bo mentions the word _dancer_ , and explains that she worked at a strip club. Suddenly, Lauren's thoughts are back to where they were before: Bo's body. Even though Bo explains that she tended bar, Lauren can't keep herself from picturing Bo, half-dressed, hips rolling. It makes things even worse - she's aroused, embarrassed, guilty, even more than before. She can't believe that she's this person, that she wants Bo this much.

She tries to stop herself by thinking about unsexy things - men's hockey, her grandmother, petri dishes - but her thoughts keep circling back to Bo, and how much she wants her.

There's a pause in Bo's storytelling, as she takes a breath. Lauren knows she should fill it with something - a comment, a question, something to make the conversation two-sided - but she doesn't trust her voice, not when she feels like this. She tries to make a sound that shows that she's listening, but it comes out as a moan, obvious and lustful.

Bo's end of the phone is silent, and Lauren can hardly blame her. Lauren shakes her head, blushing with shame.

"Lauren, are you -" Bo starts, then stops again, and the phone line between them is filled with heavy silence. "God, I don't even know how to ask this."

It's then that Lauren recognizes something about Bo's voice. She doesn't sound uncomfortable at all. Instead, Lauren hears longing, a voice thick with arousal. She's heard something like that before, in Bo's bedroom, with Bo's lips moving against the underside of her breast, and the realization makes Lauren bold.

"Let's say you've already asked," she says. Her voice hardly sounds like her own, whisper-soft and strained. "And let's say the answer is yes."

"Oh," Bo says. Her voice reminds Lauren of nothing but sex, of the sounds she made when Lauren's tongue was pressed against her cunt.

"Yeah," Lauren says, biting her lip. Her voice comes out breathy and as eager as she feels.

"So. What now?" Bo asks. Lauren knows what she wants to say in reply, a stream-of-consciousness explanation of every filthy thing she's ever wanted to do to Bo, _with_ Bo. But now that she can, she feels tongue-tied, heart fluttering nervously beneath her sternum. "Come on," Bo says, coaxing. "Don't get shy on me."

"God," Lauren says, inarticulate with lust. "Okay. Okay."

"Are you touching yourself?"

Lauren shakes her head. Realizes that Bo can't see her, that she needs to actually say something for this to work. "No," she manages.

"I want you to."

Lauren's eyes flutter shut at the words. "What?" she asks, distractedly. What she means is, _where do you want me to start_.

Bo chuckles, and Lauren can picture it, that happy-hungry smile she gets whenever she's really interested in Lauren. "Come on, speak up," she says, gently.

Lauren shakes her head, focuses. When she speaks, her voice is shy, but she manages to say what she means. "What do you want me to touch?"

Bo groans, and the sound goes straight to Lauren's cunt. The thought of pulling that sound from a succubus, from Bo, is thrilling. "Your breasts," Bo says, too quickly, like she doesn't need time to think about it. "Touch your breasts."

Lauren transfers the phone to her left hand and reaches under the hem of her tank top with her right. She unclasps her bra, then slips her hand under the band to palm her own breast. The edge of her thumb rubs at the nipple until it's hard and oversensitive. This is familiar territory, and her hands are practiced, but there's something different - better - about doing it with Bo listening. She sighs into the phone. "Good idea."

"You have the nicest tits," Bo murmurs, tenderly. "Pinch them for me."

Lauren does. It feels amazing, and sends a shudder through her, from her fingertips against her breast all the way down to her cunt. She presses her thighs together, hard, and whimpers.

"Is that getting you wet for me?" Bo asks.

"God, yes," Lauren says. Bo's voice is so even, so sweet, and Lauren can just picture the expression on her face right now. She's seen it before, the lustful, eager look in her eyes. She wishes, suddenly, that she could see Bo. She wants to know what she's doing - if she's touching her own body, or if she's able to keep calm while she tells Lauren to do filthy things in that low, gentle voice. She wants to know if Bo is coming undone as much as she is. "Do you like that?" Lauren asks.

" _Lauren_ ," Bo hisses, her control sounding a little frayed. Lauren recognizes that voice from when they were in bed together, Lauren's thigh rocking up against the seam of her jeans.

Lauren pinches at her other breast, growing more confident. "Come on," she teases. "Speak up."

She hears Bo take a deep, shuddering breath. "I really, really like that," she says, very carefully. "But I'm going to like it even better when I make you come for me."

Lauren shivers. "How are you going to do that?" she whispers.

"Take off your pants."

Nothing has ever sounded like a better idea. Lauren tilts her head, trapping the phone between her ear and her shoulder, freeing her hands to wrestle with the fly of her jeans. She kicks them off inside-out, eagerly. "Then what?"

There's a chuckle from Bo's end of the phone. "Touch yourself. Over your underwear."

Lauren groans, not sure if she should be relieved or frustrated. She wants to touch her _cunt_ , wants to trace a familiar pattern over her clit, slip just the right number of fingers inside herself, and make herself come. But she also wants to draw this out, and enjoy what Bo's telling her to do. Holding the phone with her left hand, she runs her right down the slope of her belly, presses two fingers to the gusset of her underwear, grinding down. The fabric is humid against her fingers. Her touch feels good, better than she thought it would, but not quite enough.

"Do you like that?" Bo asks, voice low.

"Yes," Lauren says. She rubs at her clit, through the fabric, making herself whimper.

"Do you want to take your underwear off?"

Lauren tries for _yes_ , but what comes out is a moan, completely incoherent. Bo's laugh is gravelly, her voice rough, as she says, "Go ahead, then."

She doesn't bother taking them all the way off; she just slides her hand under the waistband. Her clit is slick against her fingertips, so sensitive that a gentle touch makes her fall back on the bed, hips bucking. Bo's voice is still in her ear, and she sounds like she's coming undone herself, too eager and a little shaky. "How does that feel?" Bo asks.

" _Fuck_ ," Lauren whispers.

The sound she hears from Bo is halfway between a laugh and a moan. "Lauren," she says, shakily. "Manners."

"Sorry," Lauren breathes, not meaning it. She's tracing tight circles around her clit, exactly the way she likes it, making herself shudder and buck against nothing. She's close, so close, almost-but-not-quite at release.

"Come for me," Bo says, rough and pleading.

The sound of her voice goes right to Lauren's cunt and she clenches, almost on the edge. All she can focus on is the feel of her fingers and the sound of Bo on the other end of the phone, breathing shuddery. She hears a gasp, and suddenly she realizes that the sound is _Bo_ , that they're doing this together. Bo whimpers something that sounds like her name, a sigh of relief, and then Lauren is coming, finishing against her hand.

"God," she whispers, to no one in particular. She feels dazed, content to rest lazily against the pillows, her hand still cradled against her cunt.

"Wow," Bo says. She's panting a little, but she sounds ecstatic. Lauren can't help but smile. "That was -"

"Unexpected?"

" _Awesome_."

Lauren laughs. "Well, I do what I can," she says, sitting up, straightening her clothes.

"I still wish you were here, though."

"Me too." Lauren says, that dull ache back behind her ribs. She wishes, as much as ever, that she could visit Bo without supervision, without begging permission from the Ash.

Bo takes a deep breath. "I know things are - complicated, right now. But we're going to be okay, right?"

 _Complicated_ is the only word to describe it. Even after tonight, after every night she's spent with Bo since they first met, Lauren thinks about Nadia. She can't - doesn't want to - forget what they had together, years ago, and the promise she made to get Nadia better someday. But the cure for her is still a long way off. Lauren hasn't even begun to understand the nail the Morrigan gave her, still doesn't understand why, five years out, Nadia is still sick. She doesn't know if she'll ever understand.

The one thing she does know is that she also wants to be with Bo; now, tomorrow, next week. For the time being, Lauren supposes that's enough. "Yeah," she says. "We are."

Lauren closes her eyes, letting herself pretend for a moment that things can be simple. That they can deal with the future when it happens. 


End file.
